


Just Another Day

by mickeym



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-17
Updated: 2007-04-17
Packaged: 2017-10-08 19:28:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/78772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeym/pseuds/mickeym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's just another day, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Another Day

**Author's Note:**

> For Dacey: happy birthday, honey.

Life on Atlantis is crazy in a way that trumps pretty much everything else. Even _normal_ is purely subjective, and has an entirely different meaning than it has on Earth. A normal day here, John reflects, so often includes brushes-with-death; innocuous-looking, but very dangerous pottery or furniture or iPod things laying around, waiting to ambush the unwary; strange aliens and even stranger alien worlds.

The list could go on and on, but if John's learned anything in his time here, it's to not dwell on what _could_ happen, and be grateful at the end of the day for what doesn't.

Today's just another day, like the one before, and the one before that, where he wakes up and is glad for it.

He knows something's up at roll call, all the Marines fidgeting -- which for a Marine means basically you can sense the wiggle, even if you don't actually see it -- impatiently. He wonders if it isn't time to rotate shifts again.

Even Lorne's acting kind of odd. It isn't anything John can call him on, and it's unlikely that anyone just coming in and looking at Lorne would notice. But working together as they do, with so many of their days holding the potential for death -- or worse -- John knows. He can sense it.

Breakfast is weird, with the almost-but-not-quite oddness vibe still going strong, and John's even happier than usual to spot Rodney already sitting in the dining hall. They'd missed each other that morning -- Rodney was still snorting and drooling when John crawled out of bed in the pre-dawn to oversee some weapons training. Again. For the umpteenth day in a row. Maybe that was the source of the weirdness, though it didn't explain why the Marines were acting strangely.

"Rodney," John says by way of greeting as he slides his tray onto the table.

"Colonel," Rodney answers back, then fidgets.

John raises an eyebrow, not at the address -- sure, the whole base suspects they're sleeping together, but why advertise it with condemning things like endearments and whatnot? And okay, 'John' isn't exactly an endearment, but it would be odd for Rodney to call him that, and god, the weirdness of today is affecting his brain, isn't it? -- but at the fidget. Or, no, not even that. Rodney fidgets. It's a fact of life, like the sun is hot and water is wet. But this�is a different fidget.

"Okay, what gives?" John ducks his head so he can make eye contact with Rodney, who seems to be going out of his way to avoid that very thing.

"What--? Nothing! Nothing gives. It's nothing. It's morning, and there isn't any more sausage, and I'm late for, um. A meeting." Rodney scrambles up faster than John ever figured he could, when not directly under fire, gathers his things, and is gone before Sheppard can actually form a reply.

Well, 'what the fuck' is echoing through his head, but other than that.

~~~~~

The weirdness factor of the day -- it's just another day, dammit! An ordinary, run-of-the-mill (so far) day. -- increases exponentially when Teyla and Ronan prove to be conspicuously absent when Sheppard goes looking for them. Vague comments from assorted personnel leave him with more possible whereabouts than his brain knows what to do with, ranging from "called in sick" (unlikely) to "left on vacation" (equally unlikely).

Do either of them even know what calling in sick, or going on vacation, would be?

John keeps a list in his head of things he wonders about, here in the Pegasus Galaxy, and he adds that to the list.

But it still leaves him with two of his team members unaccounted for, and the third _clearly_ avoiding him, and every Marine under his command acting like they're raw recruits who haven't even finished basic yet.

Elizabeth is inexplicably out, away, unavailable too, and John starts to wonder if he woke up in an alternate universe.

Stranger things have -- truly and literally -- happened here, but he's pretty sure that's not what's going on.

~~~~~

Atlantis doesn't really have seasons. The mainland does, though not like Earth's seasons, and for as much as he loves Atlantis, John misses those. He misses fall the most. The colors, the shift from hot and humid to crisp and cool, with the air seeming cleaner and fresher as it cools.

Not that air pollution is a big problem, here. Or anywhere in this galaxy, really. A few spots who might could have problems down the road, but definitely not here.

He's wandered all the way out to the end of the south pier, and John thinks maybe today is going to be one of those nothing-really-happens-for-real days; the kind they've seen maybe two of three of, in the same number of years. He picks a stone up off the pier and launches it toward the water, turning when an itch in the center of his back becomes too strong to ignore. He's not surprised to see Rodney standing there, studying him with an odd expression on his face.

"You mad at me, or something?"

Rodney sniffs. "I'd have to see you to be mad at you, and we haven't hardly seen each other in almost three days."

That's certainly true. He nods. "So what's going on, really? No one's around, and the ones who are aren't talking. Someone told me Teyla called in _sick_," he finishes in a rush. "I'm--a little weirded out."

"It's withdrawal," Rodney says, stepping closer.

John looks around, reflexively, then pulls Rodney in the rest of the way. "Withdrawal?"

"No me for almost three days? I'm surprised you haven't felt it sooner." His mouth is warm when it presses briefly -- too briefly! -- against John's and then he moves away, just a little, but enough that John misses him immediately.

John pulls him back quickly, and Rodney makes a quiet little squeak before John's kissing him, ravenous to taste him, to ground himself in something that's good and familiar and _normal_.

When they break for air, John's heartbeat is pounding in his lips, in his head, in his ears. It's all he can hear, all he can feel, except for the solid, familiar comfort of Rodney's body against his.

"I have to get back to the lab," Rodney says quietly, fingers stroking over the nape of John's neck. "Come on up with me? Or would you rather stay out here and throw stones at hapless sea creatures?"

"They're not 'hapless', and you know it," John grumbles, but he nods. "I'll go back. I have paperwork I need to do, anyway."

"Mmm," is all Rodney says to that, and John's a little disappointed he doesn't offer to blow off the lab--in favor of blowing John. But the weapons drills are done, and tomorrow actually is an off day for John's team, so maybe they can do some of that blowing later.

And all day, tomorrow.

They head inside the city, and Rodney insists on a detour to the mess, for coffee, before actually returning to the lab.

Maybe John shouldn't be surprised by the dozens of voices yelling, "Happy Birthday!", but he is. Surprised, and relieved that he'd only forgotten his birthday -- though clearly Atlantis hadn't -- and wasn't in some parallel dimension.

Teyla and Ronon and Elizabeth join Rodney in urging John up toward the front of the room where there's an impossibly large birthday cake waiting, shaped like a Jumper. John laughs out loud at that, and forgets to look around, or care, before leaning in to Rodney's warmth.

"Happy birthday," Rodney says quietly, and the brush of his fingers is gone almost before John registers it.

Maybe it's not just another day, after all.

~fin~


End file.
